


A Tree Grows In Chicago

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-09-29
Updated: 1999-09-29
Packaged: 2018-11-11 01:21:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11138397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Fraser and Vecchio team up with an FBI agen to investigate a death at a hockey game.





	A Tree Grows In Chicago

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Vecchio and Fraser couldn't believe what the captain was telling  
them

A Tree Grows In Chicago

John Madden

Okay, here it is, my first attempt at fanfic. No relationship developments, no sex, no angst, just a good old fashioned Fraser/Vecchio mystery. As with all stories here, copyright remains with the TV show people. All apologies if it sucks, I will do better next time. On with the show...

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Vecchio and Fraser couldn't believe what the captain was telling them.

'I'm assigning you to work with FBI Agent Levington, here, on the murder of another agent at last night's Blackhawks game.'

The female agent, tall, blonde and pretty, stood next to the captain. She smiled, evidently more at Fraser in his red serge than his overcoat-clad partner. Ray could not hold in his indignation.

'Sir, all due respect...'

'Vecchio, any objections you voice will be completely lacking in respect. Now get out.'

The Mountie, the cop and the agent left the captain's office and walked down the corridor. As they did so, Diefenbaker, who had been sitting patiently outside, and was now shadowing agent Levington, joined them. She couldn't help but to pet him.

'Cute wolf.'

Fraser glared at his fuzzy companion.

'He's a show-off. Word of advice, Agent Levington...'

'It's Karen, Constable Fraser.'

'Benton. Word of advice - never let a wolf save your life. And if you do, don't teach him to lip-read.'

Vecchio couldn't take any more of this.

'Benny. Can I have a word? In private?'

'Why, certainly Ray. Usual place?'

'Unfortunately, yes.'

Vecchio wished they'd install lights in these things.

'I can't actually imagine many situations where being in a dark closet with a Mountie and his deaf wolf would be a pleasant experience.'

'Well, Ray, darkness can be very therapeutic...'

'Not for me...'

'So can the smell of wolf's hair...'

'Not the smell of this wolf.'

Diefenbaker whimpered in what sounded like indignation.

'And Mounties can...'

'I don't think I want to continue this line of inquiry, Benny.'

'Well, you dragged me in here, Ray.'

There was a knock on the door. Ray and Fraser both looked up.

'Come in.'

It was Agent Levington. She couldn't help smiling at the scene.

'If you two ever want to be alone during this investigation, just ask.'

Fraser smiled back.

'Thank you kindly. Sometimes it helps to look at these matters in an environment more conducive to...'

Vecchio was just staring at his feet.

'Benny, that's not what she meant.'

This only confused Fraser further.

'Um, we'll be out in a moment.'

Agent Levington shut the door behind her. 

Ten minutes later, Ray and Benny emerged from the closet.

'Ray, I just don't think that because Agent Levington is a...'

Levington raised an eyebrow.

'Agent Levington is a what?'

'Uh, Detective Vecchio contends that you being a female agent may somehow interfere with this case.'

'That's not a very politically correct attitude to have, Detective.'

Ray ran a hand through his thinning hair in frustration.

'Look, Karen...'

'That's 'Agent Levington', Detective.'

'Agent Levington, it's nothing personal, I just have a thing about working with the Feds. Especially female Feds.'

'Female Feds. I like that. Listen, Detective. I am your superior on this case. It's a federal case, and the only reason your ass is even assigned to it is because it happened on city property. Therefore I am required to bring in local police, i.e. yourselves, until an arrest is made. So don't give me the macho crap about working for a woman.'

Fraser spoke up before Ray could respond.

'Excuse my asking, Agent Levington...'

'Karen.'

'Excuse my asking, Karen, but don't FBI agents usually work in pairs? Will your partner be joining us at the crime scene?'

'You might say that. The murdered agent was my partner.'

'Rinkside seats. Not bad.'

Ray surveyed the scene inside the United Center. Agent Garry Vaughn's body was still slumped against his seat. Above the ice, the scoreboard still held the final score from the previous night's game

. Fraser and Agent Levington were sniffing  
around the body. As was Diefenbaker, literally. The wolf nosed at a game  
program at the dead agent's feet. Benton picked it up and leafed through  
it. Dief's hunches were usually quite reliable. For a wolf. As long as  
there wasn't food involved. Okay, so his hunches could be flawed, but  
Fraser still listened. He stopped at the middle pages of the program,  
and then looked at the scoreboard.

'Ray, do you have this morning's sports section?'

'Benny, if you're looking for the score, it's right up there on the board. 4-3 'Hawks. But I don't see what...'

'I'm not looking for how many goals were scored, Ray, I want to know when they were scored.'

Ray pulled a _USA Today_ from his inside pocket and threw it to Fraser. Fraser compared the program to the newspaper.

'Just as I thought.'

Agent Levington looked up.

'What?'

'Time of death was between the end of the second and start of the third period.'

'How do you know that?'

'Agent Vaughn was taking note on his program of who scored and when. He has a record of a goal scored two minutes before the end of the second period, but no record of the one scored twenty-one seconds into the third.'

'Well, that gives us time of death. The bullet wound gives us cause.'

'I'm not so sure.'

'A bullet wound through the jugular vein. That's fairly likely to kill. And a silenced, low caliber bullet could theoretically go unnoticed in a crowded arena.'

'Yes, but it's also likely to cause a lot of blood loss. Plus, there's an exit wound. If Agent Vaughn was shot to death, then there should be much more blood, and quite possibly a second body, assuming there was somebody in the next seat. And a shot that precise would have to be delivered at close range in a crowded arena, and I think Agent Vaughn might have noticed an assailant carrying a silenced weapon. And...'

Ray couldn't take any more.

'Benny, are you saying he died before he was shot, you just don't know how?'

'Yes.'

'Let's get an autopsy.'

Ray couldn't remember a time when his Buick Riviera _hadn't_ seen better days. But it got Fraser, Diefenbaker and himself, and now that damned FBI agent wherever they wanted to go without unreasonable delay. And besides, it was a classic. Right?

'Old does not necessarily mean classic, Ray.'

Fraser had caught him staring dreaming at the wheel. Ray cleared his throat, unsure of how to respond. Agent Levington broke the silence for him.

'Constable, does Detective Vecchio often fall asleep at the wheel?'

'Well, no, usually just at his desk.'

'I resent that, Benny.'

'Well, Ray, you have been known to...'

'That was only for the first few nights after I moved in with Franny. I don't sleep well in strange places.'

'You've slept just fine at my apartment.'

The squawk of the radio interrupted the bickering, and prevented Agent Levington from reacting. It was Elaine.

'Fraser, Vecchio. I just heard from the coroner's office. You better get down there.'

Ray picked up the handset.

'Something wrong, Elaine?'

'Let's just say it's probably more Constable Fraser's area of expertise.'

Fraser took the handset from Ray.

'Thank you _kindly_ , Elaine.'

The City of Chicago Coroner's Office smelt more like a hospital than a hospital did. Which is probably one of the many reasons Ray hated it. It wasn't so much a fear of hospitals as a general sense of discomfort around anything so clinical. He wouldn't even be able to stand Benny's clinical attention to 'The Rules' if it wasn't balanced by his investigative techniques, which were unorthodox, to say the least. Which, Ray thought, made him perfect for the case which now presented itself on the examining table before them.

'Ray, still with us?'

Benny looked up from examining the body to speak to his partner.

'Yeah, I'm here. I'm fine. What is it?'

He referred to the stylised winged skeleton symbol, which was scorched onto the back of Agent Vaughn's neck.

'It's Pauguk, Ray.'

'This isn't one of those Eskimo things, is it?'

'Actually, Ray, 'Eskimo' is an Inuit word for 'people'. It's a common mistake, also applied to the Pueblo Indians of Southern California, 'Pueblo' being a Spanish word for...'

Agent Levington had to interrupt.

'I think what Detective Vecchio wants to know is: What the hell is it doing on my partner's neck?!'

Benny was secretly glad of the opportunity to show off.

'Well, Pauguk is - _was_ a Manitou, that's a kind of Demi-God or ghost, common to Inuits as well as Algoquin and Ojibway or Chippewa Indians. He was a spirit of Death and Jealousy, and took the form of a flying skeleton. 

This wasn't helping to improve Agent Levington's mood.

'I'll say again - How and Why did it get scorched on Agent Vaughn's neck?'

'How, I'd say it was done with some sort of small branding iron. As for why, I have no idea. Some sort of ritual, maybe. Was Agent Vaughn involved in any cults?'

'Agent Vaughn was one of the most clean living people I've ever known, Constable Fraser. And a devout Catholic. He once left a stakeout to go to church. The last thing he would have been involved in is a cult.'

'I just had to ask, that's all. No offence meant.'

'Of course, I'm sorry.'

'Oh, that's quite alright. What was the last case you were working on?'

Agent Levington's brow furrowed as she realised the significance of what she was about to say.

'We were investigating the unauthorised removal of protected but hallucinogenic plants from state parks. We had reason to believe they were being used in some sort of quasi-religious rituals.'

Fraser beckoned to the coroner, who was in the office next door. She entered; not being given a chance to speak before Fraser quizzed her.

'Have you done a blood toxicology report yet?'

'Um, I've sent the samples down to the lab, but I haven't got results back yet. Why?'

'Could you call down and tell them to search specifically for biological toxins?'

'I guess so...'

'And when you perform the actual autopsy, could you check for puncture marks, chemical burns and/or absorption marks in the skin?'

'I'll look...'

'Thank you kindly. Ray. Karen. Shall we?'

Benny gestured to the door, which was all the invitation ray needed to leave.

Fraser and Agent Levington sat by Ray's desk nursing mugs of chocolate. Fraser watched as Diefenbaker chewed noisily on a McDonald's cheeseburger.

'That wolf's metabolism amazes me. It has to be urban living that does it.'

Agent Levington turned to look as the hybrid wolf swallowed the grease-ball burger almost whole.

'Are you kidding? I've lived in cities my whole life, I couldn't eat like that.'

She paused.

'Why do you keep that wolf, anyway?'

'Sometimes, I wonder if maybe he keeps me. He's deaf, you know, lost his hearing saving me from an icy river.'

'How does he know what you're saying?'

'He lip reads.'

'He what?'

'English and Inuit. Though he can be very selective about what he understands in either language.'

Agent Levington thought about this for a moment.

'It could be worse.'

Fraser looked puzzled by this. Agent Levington continued.

'He's Canadian. What if he only spoke French?'

A smile crossed Fraser's lips. Right up until he saw Vecchio crossing the floor with a piece of fax paper. Ray reached the desk and slapped it down in front of Fraser. Agent Levington read over the mountie's shoulder while Ray explained what it was all about.

'You were right, Benny. Vaughn's blood was saturated with some hallucinogenic stuff, apparently it's commonly found in the sap of some rare tree or other.'

Agent Levington spoke. 

'Don't tell me. Gawaunduk spruce.'

'Right. There's more, though. That burned in symbol on the back of his neck? It's a chemical burn, Benny. Apparently that's how the poison was delivered. Painted on, burned the skin, soaked straight through to the brain stem. Nasty stuff, huh?'

Benny seemed puzzled.

'But what's the significance of the symbol? Pauguk must have some meaning for the killer.'

Ray mocked wiping his brow.

'Thank God, I thought you were going to say he was a suspect. "Attention All Units. Look out for a really underweight guy with wings".'

Fraser thought for a second, apparently ignoring his partner's joke.

'Is there any way of finding out who was sitting in the seats directly behind Agent Vaughn?'

Ray scratched his head. 

'Well, they could be season ticket holders, but murder suspects tend not to be. Otherwise, it's not likely unless they carved their names in the seats.'

Agent Levington looked up.

'Or if they paid with credit cards.'

Benny got up and headed to Elaine's desk.

'Elaine, could you get a seat plan of the United Center, and cross reference the credit card payment records to find out who was sitting directly behind, and behind to either side seat... AA-36C?'

Elaine was tapping at her computer before Fraser had finished his sentence.

'You know, I do all the work. How come you guys get all the credit?'

'Thank you kindly, Elaine.'

Ten minutes later Elaine came wordlessly up to the desk, a self-satisfied smile on her face. Neither Ray nor Benny looked up; they just took the sheet of paper she'd put on the desk in front of them. Elaine shrugged and walked away without a word. Ray was first to the list.

'What's with her?'

Fraser hadn't noticed.

'With who?' He paused. 'Okay, we've got a Brian Olsen, Oak Grove, Illinois; Michael Perkowski, Springfield, Illinois; and...'

Fraser stopped as he read the last name over again.

'James Walkswithwind, Chicago, Illinois.'

Ray stood up straight.

'Why do I get the feeling he's our man?'

'Actually, Ray, we don't really have any reason to suspect Mr. Walkswithwind over the others. And he is one of the foremost contributors of Indian and Inuit artefacts to the Chicago Museum of Natural History...'

'Benny, I don't care if he's the Pope. There's a connection there, and I know who I'm checking out first.'

Agent Levington now felt the need to speak up.

'Actually, we do have reason. Three days ago, Vaughn questioned him about the disappearance of a Gawaunduk Spruce sapling from the State Park.'

James Walkswithwind's office was not only attached to the Museum; it overlooked the Native American artefacts gallery. An enormous and elaborately decorated Inuit kayak hung right outside the mirrored glass panel which separated the ageing man's office from the museum itself. A CD of Native American chants played softly in his office, though no speakers could be seen. Benny, Ray and Agent Levington sat in the large comfortable chairs in front of the elaborately carved desk behind which sat James Walkswithwind. The old Indian spoke.

'May I just say, Agent Levington, how sorry I was to hear about the loss of Agent Vaughn. He was a dedicated man.'

Levington sat there, fuming, leaving Fraser to speak for her.

'Mr. Walkswithwind, exactly what did you and Agent Vaughn speak about when he was here?'

The old man ran a hand through his hair, stopping to massage the back of his neck.

'Agent Vaughn told me he'd somehow traced a rare Gawaunduk Spruce sapling to the Museum, and suspected my involvement.'

'And is there any Gawaunduk Spruce in the Museum?'

'I'll tell you the same thing I told Agent Vaughn, Constable Fraser. The only Gawaunduk Spruce in the Museum has either been fossilised, or was carved into spears, kayaks or other items over a hundred years ago. You're quite welcome to use our carbon dating equipment to check the authenticity and age of any piece of spruce you may find in the museum.'

'That probably won't be necessary. Uh, Do you know much about the Gawaunduk Spruce?'

'I know that local Indians favoured it for constructing tools, weapons, kayaks, housing and ornaments. It was a very versatile tree, Constable, a versatility that cost it its great numbers.'

'But what about it's use in "religious ceremonies"?'

'Ah, yes. Drinking the sap was said to induce a trance-like state, and bring the user closer to "The Great Spirit", and that's true, it did have hallucinogenic properties, and was used in religious ceremonies. But it was also highly poisonous, and could kill even if applied to the skin in a concentrated area.'

'Do you ever participate in religious ceremonies like these?'

'I have been known to attend traditional Ojibway ceremonies from time to time, Constable. I am proud of my heritage, And religious expression is not a crime.'

Agent Levington glared at him.

'No, but murder is.'

Walkswithwind's eyes seemed to turn colder as he looked at Agent Levington.

'I'm not sure I like your tone, Agent Levington. Such accusations should not be made unless you have very strong evidence to back them up.'

'Agent Vaughn had evidence. He knew exactly where those Gawaunduk Spruce trees were going. You were taking them, draining the sap for use in these 'ceremonies' and using the dead wood to forge artefacts for this Museum. Because you're in charge of the exhibits, nobody checks the authenticity of a claim made by a 'foremost expert' such as yourself. If you say a spear or arrow or ornament is over a hundred years old, who are they to doubt you?'

'And who are you to doubt me, Agent Levington? You come into my office, and accuse me of the murder of your partner, simply because his killer had read a cheap paperback about the Manitou? I would hope for our country's sake that the FBI does not treat all its investigations with such disregard for protocol.'

Fraser stepped in before Agent Levington could respond.

'I think we've troubled you enough, Mr. Walkswithwind. We'll be in touch if we need you.'

' _You_ are always welcome, Constable Fraser.'

Vecchio and Levington received a cold stare for their trouble.

Outside the museum, Agent Levington was still angry.

'God damn him! I know he's connected to this case! Fraser, you saw the seating plan. He's the only one with any sort of connection to this who could have reached Vaughn unnoticed!'

'Actually, we don't know if the others...'

'We have a man who was directly connected to a case being investigated by a murdered agent, sitting directly behind him at the hockey game at which he was murdered! That's a pretty freakin' strong connection.'

'What bothers me is how Agent Vaughn didn't notice such a prominent individual sitting behind him.

Ray could answer that one.

'Easy. He wasn't there.'

'He wasn't?'

'No. Benny, does he look like the kind of guy who goes to hockey games? The credit card records show he paid for the ticket, that doesn't mean he actually went to the game. And look -' he pulled out the credit card record. 'He only bought the ticket on the day of the game. If he was actually that big a hockey fan he'd have paid in advance or even bought season tickets.'

Agent Levington was deep in thought by the end of Ray's sentence. She spoke.

'Can we get back in to Walkswithwind's credit card records?'

This worried Fraser.

'I'm not sure about...'

Ray intervened.

'Don't ask Dudley Do-Right here or it'll never get done. Can you justify it with probable cause?'

'Yeah, sure, I guess so.'

'Lets go.'

Once again, Elaine found her computer terminal taken over by a mountie and a cop. She watched as they looked through James Walkswithwind's credit card records, and as Agent Levington scribbled down the potentially important payments.

'Here's one.'

Fraser looked to see where Agent Levington was pointing on the screen.

'Molloy's Haulage. That's outside the city. We'll go in the morning.'

Agent Levington seemed disappointed.

'Yeah. Okay. Sure.'

Fraser wasn't sure what made him call to Agent Levington's apartment that night. She'd seemed a little disturbed by the day's events, especially the involvement of James Walkswithwind. But as he and Vecchio pulled up in the Buick Riviera, only to see Levington leaving in her car, he was glad he'd made this call. Ray, unfortunately, wasn't.

'Okay, she's gone. Let's go home.'

'We can't, Ray. We have to follow her.'

'Follow her? Are you crazy?'

'No. But she could be.'

They followed Agent Levington out of the city for miles, out to near one of the nearby national parks. She finally came to a stop outside a yard with a chainlink fence. Vecchio parked far enough away that she wouldn't notice, but close enough to see the sign - 'MOLLOY'S HAULAGE'. They watched as she quickly scaled the fence and disappeared into the darkness of the yard, presumably heading for the lights of the office. Fraser got out of the car first, followed by Diefenbaker. Ray stayed put.

'Benny, where are you going?' 

'We have to follow her, Ray. I realise she's playing a hunch, but I have to admit, she could be right.'

'How do I get myself into these things?'

'I don't know, Ray. But could you give me a hand getting Diefenbaker over the fence?'

Agent Levington ducked behind a pickup truck as the men came out of the office. From her vantagepoint, she could see the gates of the national park, where one of the company's trucks was crossing the road, hauling a small evergreen tree - she guessed it was a Gawaunduk - into the yard. The men walked over to the truck as it entered the yard and began to inspect the tree. They were now close enough for her to recognise James Walkswithwind.

That was enough. She drew her government issue Glock and stood up aiming.

'Freeze.'

The men turned and looked at her.

'Obviously the words 'protected species' mean nothing to you, so I'll just skip right down to 'You're under arrest'.'

The four men turned to look at each other. Walkswithwind ducked behind the truck while the other three snapped up the sub-machine guns hanging at their hips and opened fire. Agent Levington ducked back down to find herself joined by Vecchio and Fraser.

'You're out of your jurisdiction.'

'Actually, as long as I'm south of the border...'

'So's he.'

Ray checked the clip in his gun.

'Well, the good news is, technically, we only need three bullets to take out three bad guys. The bad news is I don't think we're going to be that lucky.'

Benton looked out at the yard to find the nearest shelter.

'Dief and I will draw their fire. Then both of you come up shooting together.'

Ray looked at him.

'I always said you were crazy.'

'Just make sure you hit something that isn't wearing red serge or a flea collar.'

Diefenbaker whimpered.

Fraser and Diefenbaker ran. The gravel flew from beneath their feet as they practically dove behind a tractor, bullets following but thankfully missing them. As they ran, Vecchio and Levington popped up shooting. The distracted bad guys took a couple of bullets each, and dropped. Ray turned to Levington.

'Well that wasn't too hard. Soon as Fraser gets back over, we'll...'

Levington couldn't wait. She stepped out from behind the truck and went over to where the bodies lay.

Behind the truck, Agent Levington kicked each of the bodies in turn. Their hits had apparently been fatal. But there was no sign of Walkswithwind... yes there was. The round being chambered behind her was a definite sign. She turned around to see the Ojibway aiming a gun squarely at her forehead. He didn't look happy.

'Agent Levington, it appears I didn't give you enough credit. Vaughn came a little too close to discrediting those pieces the museum was buying from me, and it appears you have come even closer. It's just a shame I can't show you the same panache my men showed Vaughn.'

'Panache, is that what it's called?'

And that was all the warning Walkswithwind had of the mountie coming up behind him before Diefenbaker knocked him to the ground, followed by the black muzzle of Vecchio's pistol staring down at him. Fraser looked at his partner.

'It appears we still have that great sense of timing.'

Two days later, Agent Levington emerged from the captains office, smiling. Fraser, Vecchio and Diefenbaker were there to greet her.

'Well, guys, you'll be pleased to know that I told the captain how impressed I was with your investigative techniques, outstanding policework and cute wolf.'

Diefenbaker's tongue hung out in a canine grin at this. Fraser looked down at his buddy.

'You're going to give him a swelled head. Actually, I think you're too late.'

Agent Levington continued.

'Anyway, I guess there's nothing left to do, but file my report with the bureau, and wait to be assigned a new partner. Ever considered the Bureau, Fraser?'

She interrupted before he could answer.

'That's right, you're Canadian. Oh well. I guess I'll see you guys around. I'll be sure and request you if I'm ever made work with Chicago PD again.'

She turned to leave, but stopped and looked back.

'Oh, and I hope that closet thing keeps working for you.'

She winked and walked away. Benny and Ray looked at each other.

'Any idea what she meant?'

'I'm sure I've no idea, Ray.'


End file.
